


not for sale

by elossa



Series: This Place Was A Shelter AUs [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, F/M, Original Character Death(s), Out of Character, Unhealthy Relationships, heaven forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elossa/pseuds/elossa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are scum.”</p><p>He did not deny it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not for sale

**Author's Note:**

> For inkstay's daretowrite challenge.  
> Prompt: not for sale, as is the story title
> 
> (aka, yet another purely self-indulgent story.)

Contrary to her thoughts, eleven-year-old Lena Vorstenbach was nowhere near the rebel she made herself out to be.

Dagareth knew this.

If one looked closely enough, her small stature, her wavy blonde hair and icy blue eyes were the perfect image of conformity. Her immaculate lineage and poised demeanour also confirmed this.

When he walked up to Johann Vorstenbach with a hundred thousand Galleon bid for his daughter’s hand in marriage, the man - already infinitely wealthy - did not hesitate to give it to him.

They celebrated by telling her that same evening, where she slammed the door in their faces.

* * *

The first time she spoke to him in their second year, she only said three words.

“You are _scum.”_

He did not deny it.

(Their engagement was broken by the end of the week.)

* * *

Fast forward three years.

Dagareth watched Lena Vorstenbach every moment he could. His knuckles curled into a fist whenever he saw Edmunds (blood traitors, _all_ of them) by her side, gently kissing her knuckles.

His head almost burst when the news of their engagement traveled faster than the latest Firebolt. The boy had only paid her father twenty thousand Galleons (how _dare_ she leave him for a _poor_ blood traitor) but somehow, it was enough for her to look at him with fondness and love that he wanted for himself.

(All Rhys had to say was, “If you were my betrothed, I’ll gladly throw my childhood away.”)

* * *

Rhys Edmunds was found dead at the Water’s Edge at their graduation.

No one was surprised.

* * *

“I _hate_ you. I _fucking hate_ you.”

It was their wedding night, and still she did not surrender. She was clothed in the most resplendent, elegant,  _ravishing_ dress he'd ever seen, designed by some of the best witches in Paris. Her blonde hair and golden makeup made her look like the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Correction: the most beautiful woman he will  _ever_ see.

He raised an eyebrow at her, having already removed his shirt. "Why?"

"I've rejected you once. Can't you get over the fact that I don't loveyou? Why?"

He chuckled at her jab, barely piercing his rib. "This has never been about love." He cupped her face in his palm, and she flinched. "We're purebloods, love. We marry not for the sake of fickle emotion. We marry for power and wealth. Is that not what you want?"

"No. I want Rhys."

She was steel in that moment. She had always been steel.

"You can't have him, Vorstenbach. Oh wait, you're  _Lestrange,_ now."

Her hands grip his wrist, and suddenly she's kissing him. She tasted like fire, molten lava, anger, ichor coursing through her veins. He felt her lips move away from him, and he was mentally begging -

"You're lucky I'm quite good at this."

She was smirking. He was seething.

* * *

He fucks her hard in winter, harder in springtime, slower in summer.

Because no matter how hard he tried, she was never going to love him.

 


End file.
